Mind and Heart
by kmc995
Summary: It's the fourth anniversary of his grandmother's death and, every year on this day, Haru struggles to find peace.


Hello! This is my first Free! Iwatobi Swim Club fan fiction! For how much I love those boys, it's surprising that this particular story is the 1st one I've finished.

I whipped this up in a bout an hour in order to submit it on time to the MakoHaru Festival on Tumblr.

**Edit:** I noticed quite a lot of errors in this story such as missing words and using the wrong tenses and placing comma's in the wrong place. I have (hopefully) proofed most of the errors out. I also changed Makoto's short dialogue a bit. It seemed waaay to formal - more like something a person from in the classic era's would say, not a teenage boy. It's still feels off to me but ehhh it's better than it was in my opinion.

I really should proof read these stories before I post them. I guess I'm just too lazy...

**Disclaimer:** I do NOT own Free! Iwatobi Swim Club, nor do I own any of the characters.

* * *

Cold.

That's all Haru could feel right now. The wind cut sharply through his clothes, chilling him to the bone. The nature around him – the leaves, the grass, the sky – seemed to be leeched of color.

Even the gravestone in front of him.

His mind was a sea of grey and it was even colder than the numbing chill surrounding him. Though it had been four years since her passing, Haru still felt the sharp sting of her absence as if it had happened yesterday. Every year on this day his mind regressed to this dark place. The anniversary of his grandmother's death.

Every year on this day, Haru was silent. Completely silent. He would not so much as utter a syllable. If she could no longer speak, then why should he? He wouldn't taunt her with useless spoken words. He had said whatever needed to be said at her funeral.

Every year on this day, Haru wouldn't cry. He would hold back the tears in favor of silent recollection. Why cry when the tears were meant for someone unable to see them? He wouldn't indulge in such a useless action. He had cried all the tears that needed to be shed at her funeral.

The dewy grass underneath his knees was soaking his pant legs, but he hardly felt it. He slowly read the message on her headstone, gripping his knees tighter. How could they expect to sum up a person's life in one short epitaph? It wasn't nearly enough.

Another breeze ripped through the air. Haru shivered and closed his eyes. The incense he had been burning had blown out long ago. Though small, it was his only sense of heat on this unforgiving fall day. He sighed silently and waited.

No more than ten minutes later, Haru heard the soft footsteps he knew would come eventually. Every year on this day, they always did. He paid no mind to the other as they silently kneeled down beside him. Immediately, though, he could feel the warmth radiating off him from his proximity. He opened his eyes and watched as he placed a single, yellow rose on the ground. Her favorite. And, every year on this day, he never seemed to forget.

Shifting his gaze to his right, he was met with the sight of his best friend. Makoto's head was bowed over his hands which were pressed together in traditional prayer fashion. He didn't seem to be affected by the wind. In fact, with his broad shoulders, he seemed to be blocking the chilly gusts from reaching his smaller frame. He doubts it's a coincidence. A moment later the brunette relaxed and lifted his head.

Their eyes meet. Haru's eyes waver as Makoto's soften with the small smile he offers him. It's not much, but the gesture tugs at his heart in ways he can't explain. Slowly, Makoto reaches out his hand and takes his own. His small, pale hands are dwarfed by his large, slightly tanner ones. He squeezes in reassurance and, despite everything, Haru can't help but feel just that: reassured.

He notes that the rose, yellow for warmth and joy, is one thing in this dreary world that is vibrant. Makoto's eyes are another – green and supportive.

* * *

When it's time to leave, Makoto gently helps him up with the hand that he's been holding for hours now it seemed. Haru takes one last look at his grandmother's grave before he resolutely turns around and walks away. Here is the only place he feels he can be close to his grandmother – If he doesn't leave now, he never will. Makoto sees the battle raging in those glistening eyes – eyes that refuse to shed a tear. He doesn't comment on it.

The walk home is quiet – a comfortable silence. Makoto follows him up the stairs past his house without even the slightest bit of hesitation. The two reach Haru's house and Makoto let's go of his hand to take his shoes off then soundlessly follows him down the hall and to his bedroom. Haru has already taken off his light jacket when Makoto enters and he does the same.

Haru hasn't heard Makoto say a single word yet today. Somehow, it feels weird. He leads them to his bed where he lays down, waiting for the brunette to join him so they could be in their own world – under the covers where it's isolated and warm. When Haru is tucked comfortably in his arms, Makoto finally speaks.

"Haru…" His voice is gentle and low, almost a whisper. "I want you to know that Haru will always have a place here," he gestures to his chest, "and here." he gestures to his head. "Everyone we love has a special place in us that will never go away." Haru buries his head further into Makoto's chest as the words sweep over him. "Their memories are locked in your mind; their love is locked in your heart." He tilted Haru's chin up so he could look into his bright blue eyes. "Haru is locked in my mind and heart, just like your grandmother is locked up in yours. So you do not have to be sad because she is always with you."

Haru clenches his fist in Makoto's shirt. His eyes sting, a sign of imminent tears. He gasps and blinks them away before they could traitorously fall down his face. He doesn't ask how Makoto knew exactly what to say. It's like a gate has been opened in his mind. Though they've always been there, Haru can more clearly see the memories, feel the love of his grandmother. He allows himself a small smile.

A gentle pressure alerts him to the fact that Makoto has kissed his forehead. His lips are soft and they linger for a few moments before leaving without a sound. Haru feels more at peace than he has in a long time.

And so, as they do every year on this day, the two fell asleep comforted by the ever sturdy presence of each other.

* * *

Anyways, I know this is kind of sad...I apologize. The challenge was "Locked Up." I just decided to take a different approach than most. I will definitely be writing more for Free!, much happier, fluffy stories, so don't worry!

Also, I feel as if the ending was a bit rushed...I mean, it was written rather quickly but just let me know what you guys think. :)

~Krista


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